


Convicted

by PagetPaulson



Category: American Horror Story, Criminal Minds
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-04-30 03:14:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5148185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PagetPaulson/pseuds/PagetPaulson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How does an FBI agent become an asylum patient overnight?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Crossing her ankles underneath the table she sat at, Emily licked her lips. It was astounding to her how idiotic these men could be, and it was them who thought less of her? Ridiculous.

"Miss Prentiss, we-"

"Agent Prentiss."

The older man smirked. "Agent," he nodded, looking down to the file he had laid open in front of him. "I don't disagree that your resume is quite impressive," he nodded, pausing. He lifted his eyes and made sure his piercing gaze was to reach that of the agent across from him. "For a woman, that is."

Emily bit hard on her cheek before smiling at the man before her. "With all due respect sir, I have worked on and solved more cases in my four years than you have in your twelve, so if anyone here was to judge, it sure wouldn't be you."

The senior agent stiffened.

"Agent Hotchner I understand your hesitance, don't get me wrong, but you need an agent for your operation and I seem to be your only choice for the moment."

Hotchner looked to the older man by his side. "Why exactly did you recommend her, Agent Rossi?"

"For the reasons she's already explained herself," he laughed, smiling to the only woman in the room. "All of your agents, Hotchner, are either in the middle of other cases, are in the hospital or have been suspended or fired for God knows what reasons. What other options do you really have?"

Emily rolled her lips between her teeth to stop herself from laughing at the look of detest on the other agent's face.

Hotchner looked back to the agent in the pale blue dress. "This is a very important case, Agent Prentiss."

"I understand that, sir. I can promise you I'll do my best to get your the results you want."

Walking out of the office, Emily slipped her coat back over her shoulders and took in a high five from her boss. "Not as hard as I thought," she laughed, thanking him with a nod when he held the door open for her.

"You did better than I thought you would." Rossi opened her car door before making his way to the driver's side. "Ready to take off that ridiculous dress?"

Emily shrugged her shoulders. "Feels nice to be a lady for once," she chuckled lightly, slipping her lighter from her purse and starting the flame to light her cigarette. In her job, she wore tight skirts and heels in front of the cameras, her hair all done up and makeup perfect, but you couldn't take down a killer in nylons and Mary Janes.

Rossi glanced over to the woman in his passenger seat. "You think you can do this?"

The other agent felt her jaw drop, her fingers catching the cigarette that threatened to fall from between her lips. "Is that supposed to be a joke?" She was the reigning top agent of their entire unit.

"I'm just making sure you're ready," he nodded, turning his eyes back to the snowy road. "An insane asylum? That's some pretty heavy stuff, agent." He had always been one to close rank when he had to and flirt with the women in his offices, but Emily Prentiss was something different.

Emily sent the older man a quick glare. "There's nothing I can't handle."

Rossi chuckled. "I'm sure of that.

Two days later, Emily found herself at the steps of Briarcliff Manor, her badge, gun and handcuffs all securely hidden away on different parts of her body beneath her coat. "Ok," she whispered, glancing down to her purse to make sure she saw her recorder turned on and her pencil and paper were ready. "Briarcliff, day one."

Walking into the asylum, Emily's eyes were immediately attracted to the steely black staircase, the coldness of the institution quickly seeping into her bones as she stepped through the front door.

The front door that had no security nor locks to keep the patients from leaving.

"Help!"

Emily's body shook when a woman came charging for her, her back hitting a nearby pillar and her purse falling to the floor.

"Please," the patient screeched, her wide eyes pleading with the agent. "Please help me!"

Emily set her hands over those of the other brunette and took them from the lapels of her jacket.

Leaning toward her, the patient shook her head. "You have to get me out of here," she cried.

"Excuse me?"

Both Emily and the patient looked up at the sound of a strong voice silencing all of those in the entry of the asylum. "Are you Sister Jude?" the agent asked, her eyes shooting back to the woman who had grabbed her when she pulled her hands from her.

The blond nodded. "Come up here, please. Let's talk in my office."

Feeling her chance slipping away from her, the patient who had bombarded Emily tugged once again on her jacket. "My name is Lana," she whispered, picking up the purse that had fallen and handing it back to the brunette before her. "Please come back for me."

Emily watched as the younger woman scurried away, her hands shoved into her sweater's pockets and her head shaking.

"Well?"

The FBI agent's head shot up at the voice of the older woman and she quickly nodded, her heels clicking hard against the metal stairs as she followed the nun up the three flights and into her office.


	2. Chapter 2

Lana rolled the tip of her finger between her teeth.

She wasn't ever getting out of there.

All she had done was come for the story of the year, the one that would put her on the map, and this is what she got: locked up in an insane asylum.

"You ok?"

The journalist huffed, taking her finger from her mouth and looking to the man she had spent most of her time with in this hell hole. It had been almost a month now, and every time she'd start to get s little stir crazy, he'd help calm her down. "I want to leave," she said pathetically, her eyes watering.

Kit frowned.

"I thought people like you were supposed to be in here," the brunette nodded to herself, "that it was best. But you're not even who they think you are. And what am I in for? For being gay?" Sitting down on the couch in the common room, Lana bit her lip.

The younger man sat down beside his new friend and cupped her knee. "We're gonna get out of here, Lana. It's just going to take time."

Lana vigorously shook her head. "I can't take it anymore." Her voice cracked as she rushed her words. "You and me, and others in this place against our will, we're shocked for no reason, we're whipped." The reporter looked to her new friend. "Who deserves that?"

Kit watched as she stood. "Lana, where are you going?"

"I'm going to find a way out."

He stood and watched her practically run from the common room, and he threw his hands up in defeat. There was nothing he could do to make her realize what he did.

There was no getting out.

Nodding shortly to the guards, Lana slowed her pace and walked through the halls of Briarcliff, her brown eyes flickering from each corner to every open doorway.

"Ms. Winters."

Her body spun at the voice, her eyes widening at the sight of the doctor. "Dr. Thredson," she smiled softly, hoping he didn't see how worked up she was. "You're here on the weekends now?"

The older man laughed lightly. "Anything to help Kit," he nodded. "Where are you off to?"

She could hear her heartbeat reach her ears and pound in her head, and she gulped. "Just on my way to the kitchen." Fiddling with the cigarette shoved in her sweater pocket, Lana shrugged. "Got bored in the common room."

He could see right through her lie, but he decided to let her go. She was no harm to anyone. "Careful down there," the doctor smiled. "Sharp objects."

"Right," Lana laughed, out of breath from the racing of her heart. "I'll be as careful as I can." She stayed in place as he brushed past her, their shoulders touching just slightly.

When she was sure he was out of sight, the journalist calmed her worried features and continued her way down to the first floor. Her slippers helped her keep quiet as she walked through each hall and finally snuck down the staircase, her hand on the railing because she was afraid she trip and fall if she got herself worked up.

Looking to the doors at the feeling of the cold winter wind hitting her cheeks, Lana's eyes widened.

A visitor.

Before she stepped down the stairs, she watched as the dark haired woman, perfectly dressed in her heels and expensive coat over her dress, moved her eyes from her purse to the room she stood in. Tilting her head, Lana stepped off the last step and watched as the woman's brow rose and fell with every person and inch of the lobby she saw.

Lana's breath stopped.

A police officer.

Her breathing grew harder than before and those big brown eyes met those of the officer. "Help!" Running toward her and her slippers sliding across the waxed lobby floor, Lana had to grab the woman's arms to stop herself from falling on her face. "Please!"

The other woman looked to her with scared eyes, just as brown as hers, and Lana shook her head. "Please help me," she whispered sharply.

Trying to calm her down, the visitor to Briarcliff put her hands over Lana's and made her meet her eyes. She gently nodded, the serene look on her face immediately calming the patient down.

Lana felt confused. A woman she didn't even know understood her more than she did herself. "You have to get me out of here."

"Excuse me?"

Her head turning just as the officer's had, Lana cursed herself.

"Are you Sister Jude?"

Hearing the other woman's voice, the patient pulled her hands from her coat and wiped them down the knit of her sweater.

Sister Jude nodded to the visitor, making a mental note to correct the bad behavior of their newest patient later on. "Come up here, please. Let's talk in my office."

Lana turned back to the officer and grabbed the lapels of her winter jacket once again, this time softer. "My name is Lana," she whispered hurriedly, picking up the purse she had made fall to the ground and handing it back to the brunette before her. "Please come back for me."

She let their eyes meet once more before she turned and made her way back toward the common room, her head shaking at the thought at what Sister Jude would do to her later for her actions.

But she smiled. She had a chance of getting out.


	3. Chapter 3

Scribbling down notes on the pad she kept on her desk, Emily's head shook. How was it that this mental hospital was a state establishment and was getting away with so much? Electroshock therapy which had been outlawed for years, murders of patients by others in the hospital, disappearances and over twenty suicides within only the past five years.

Briarcliff had tried to cover everything up, but it was seemingly known knowledge. The state simply refused to do anything about it.

Looking up at the knock on her office door, the agent quickly waved her boss in.

"Hard at work?"

Emily let her shoulders slump as she looked to the older man sitting on the other side of her desk. "This place is despicable," she ground out, shaking her head as she gestured to the files open on her desk. "Do you realize how far out of line they are? In every aspect!"

Rossi grimaced.

"Most of these patients doesn't even deserve to be there," she said sadly, her mind immediately going back to the patient, Lana was her name, back in the asylum.

The older man smirked. "Earth to Emily."

Emily looked back up from the mess on her desk and huffed. "I'm sorry." This was the most stressful case she'd had in a while.

"You need some lunch?" It was almost dinner time but she hadn't eaten since she'd come in and Rossi knew his best agent would be there late into the night.

The brunette woman took a look at the papers scattered around her and she nodded. "Yeah, that'd be nice. Thank you," she smiled, catching his wink as he made his way out the door. Picking up the phone, Emily dialed down to the front desk in archives. "Sam? Hi, it's Emily Prentiss up on six. I need you to get me all the information you have on a patient at Briarcliff Manor." Waiting for them to agree to her request, Emily picked up her pen. "Her name is Lana Winters."

...

Slamming her car door shut, Emily led her boss up the steps of the asylum.

"You better have my back."

The female agent laughed at the look on her boss' face. She had told him all about the doctors that kept tabs on the patients and Sister Jude, who had almost chewed her head off on her first visit there. "Don't I always?"

Rossi flashed her a grin.

"Where are the officers?" Looking around, Emily felt herself frown. They were supposed to be followed by two troopers to help them during their visit.

The older man shook his head, leading the agent up the last steps with a firm hand on her back. "Small traffic jam. They'll be here before you know it."

Emily felt uncomfortable with the amount of pressure placed against her as her boss practically forced her into the asylum, and she sent a small smile to the nun she saw by the staircase. "We'd like to see Sister Jude, please."

Rossi looked around the uncomfortably cold room with wide eyes. "Damn," he whispered, his eyes reaching the Virgin Mary statue in the counter of the lobby. "I'm religious but this is something else."

Emily's eyes crinkled, looking to the statue in question. "You mean you don't have on of these? I definitely want one in my house."

"And soon you will."

Emily's dark head of hair shot up at the strict voice, her lips curling into a frown at the words.

Stepping off the staircase and onto the polished marble floors, Sister Jude held out her hand. "Agent Rossi. What a pleasure."

The female agent did her best to keep her jaw from dropping as she watched the pair shake hands. "You two know each other."

"God knows all," the nun said plainly, her eyes flickering back over to the brunette woman. "Very nice to see you again, Agent Prentiss." Nodding to the nearest hallway, she clasped her hands around the cross she wore around her neck. "Shall we?"

Emily kept her eyes on the nun that led them through the halls. "Sister Jude, we apologize for coming unannounced."

"Nothing is unannounced when in the house of God."

The brunette frowned again, her eyes meeting Rossi's. They weren't in a church.

"What is it I can do for you two?"

"We're here to discuss the incidents that have occurred," the only male answered, his hand on his agent's back and eyes wandering around the patients that passed and the cells used to house the patients.

Emily grimaced at the look of the rooms. "Do your patients sleep in here?"

Sister Jude stopped, turning to look at the particular cell. The bed was stitched on either side and the pillow lay on the floor, the smell of mold immediately filling the air when they stepped into the doorway. "Not yet, no. This cell has been contaminated and needs to be cleaned.

Taking a step inside, Emily looked up and down the walls. "Sister Jude, I'm sorry but I do-"

She fell to the ground, her head slamming against the cement floor.

Sister Jude looked to the man by her side and gave a sigh, taking the pipe from his hand. "A little louder than needed," she critiqued, throwing the piece of metal into the cell with the agent before slamming the door.

"I appreciate this."

The nun nodded, leading him back out through the halls and to the front doors of the asylum. "Well with what you've told us about her anger issues and homosexuality, it's a good thing you brought her."

Rossi grinned.

...

Blinking warily against the bright lights above her, Emily did her best to ignore the pain in her head and sit up.

"It's best not to move."

Her dark eyes met those of the seemingly familiar nun, her wrists tugging at her restraints. "What is this?" She did her best to turn her head and whimpered, feeling for the first time the device that kept her head and neck in place. "What is this? Get me out of here!"

The innocent looking woman quickly shook her head and placed a hand on one of the agent's arms. "Don't. You don't need to hurt yourself."

"Let me out of here!"

"My name is Sister Mary Eunice," the blond tried to smile. "You have a phone call."

Emily's stomach was turning as she heard her breathing echoing around her. She did her best to get out of her restraints, her body now dressed in a pale blue hospital looking gown, and fought against the younger woman as she set the phone near her ear.

"Emily darling."

The agent's heart dropped at the sound of her boss' voice on the other end.

Sighing, Rossi leaned back in his office chair. "I'm sorry I had to do this, kid."

"What is this?" she whispered angrily, tears invading her eyes and flooding her cheeks. "Why am I in here?"

"I'm sure we'll get another chance to talk, Emily. When Sister Jude gives you permission, once you're out of your beginning period there, you give me a call." He grinned at the expanse of his new office. "If I have the time, I will most definitely try and pick up."

Emily cried out as she heard the laughter on the other end. "You can't just leave me here!" She pulled against the shackles holding her in place, her muscles straining and skin chaffing as she screamed. "You can't leave me here! Rossi!"


	4. Chapter 4

Nervously rolling the tip of her index finger between her front teeth, Lana stared out the window of the common room and out to the snow that fell around the asylum. It had been over a week since she had met the woman who she was sure was a police officer down in the lobby, but she'd never seen her after that one visit.

Blowing out a breath, the reporter looked down to her lap. Maybe it took more time than that to come and help her out.

"Lana babe, it's your turn."

Lana gave a slow blink before taking her finger from her mouth and looking to her friend. "I'm sorry."

Kit shook his head. "You want to do something else?"

"I want to leave," she said to him for the hundredth time, staring out the window once more. "Kit it's miserable here. I don't belong here," the journalist whispered, her voice strained. "You don't belong here."

Kit ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

Lana found herself glaring at the younger man when she saw him shake his head. "I'm sorry if my depression is upsetting you," she hissed.

"Lana, do you honestly think we're getting out of here?"

The journalist felt taken aback, her jaw almost dropping at the anger she saw in her friend's eyes. They had always confided in each other in the months they'd been there, but he had never lashed out at her like that.

Looking up, the car mechanic glared at the brunette. "We've been here for months. We tried an escape that didn't work and now we're here playing cards and checkers and doing our best to not get noticed by all of these doctors who want us to go through electroshock. This is as good as it's going to get for us, alright?"

Lana kept her mouth shut as she took a deep breath through her nose, keeping herself from retorting.

"What do you honestly see for us in the future, Lana? You really think we're getting out of here?"

The brunette gently shook her head. "We have to," she argued softly, her sad eyes looking into those of the younger man. "We don't belong here."

Kit's gaze hardened on the woman across from him. "Do you really think anyone gives a shit about where we belong?" His voice grew louder and he could tell that he was starting to upset his friend. "We're here because no one gives a shit. No one gives a fucking shit about us, alright? Get that through your damn head."

Lana's eyes watered. "I have people who care about me."

"Who? Your girlfriend? She's dead, Lana."

The brown eyed woman stared at her shaking hands, her heart breaking at the reminder of the woman she loved.

Getting herself up, Lana took her cigarette she had laid on the table and silently walked away from the man she had found comfort in. "She's dead," her whispered words came out, tears dripping down the sides of her nose before she picked her head up. "Fuck."

Lana walked herself out of the common room and toward her cell, tired from that day's scenarios, but stopped at the end of the hall when she heard screaming from the other end.

"I don't belong here!"

Eyes widening, the reporter recognized the voice right away. The officer from days before. She poked her head around the wall and watched with surprised eyes as the dark haired woman pleaded with Sister Mary Eunice.

Emily cried as the nun removed her hands from her habit. "Please," she whispered, looking around to make sure no other nuns nor doctors were around. "My name is Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss."

"I know who you are," the nun nodded. "We know all of our patients."

"Please, you have to let me out of here. I don't know why but my boss put me in here," she hissed quietly, her eyes red and watering. "I have no idea why he would, but I need you to get me out."

Lana stepped out from hiding as the young nun quickly strode away. She stood quietly at the end of the hall opposite the government worker and watched her sob, her fingers rolling the cigarette she held vigorously.

There was no way of getting out.

Looking up, Emily saw Lana at the other end of the hall and she quickly wiped her eyes. "Lana." She walked swiftly down the hall and stood before the younger woman, her red eyes looking into those of the reporter. "I'll help you if you help me. Deal?"


	5. Chapter 5

Emily shook her head as she finished her story, tears running down her cheeks. Lifting her head from her hands to look at the woman across from her, she tried to find the right words to say to continue on. "I just don't get it."

Lana frowned at the woman trying to contain herself. "How well did you know him?"

"He's my boss," the agent breathed, biting hard on her nails. "He's been my boss for years. I'm his best agent." Shrugging her shoulders, Emily looked to the younger woman rather pathetically.

"There's nothing you can think of for why he'd do this? Did you cross him?"

Emily's jaw dropped. "How could I cross him? He's my boss! Everything I've ever done there was for him."

Lana's lips puckered, eyes looking down to her fiddling fingers.

Sniffling, the FBI agent wiped the tears from her cheeks and sat herself up. "So why are you here?"

Her head popped up.

"You seem normal," Emily nodded, her voice soft as to not startle the other patient. "Why'd they put you in here?"

Lana's lips rolled inward. "I'm a reporter," she answered, her brown eyes meeting those of the older woman. "I came here to get a story on Bloody Face who was being brought in."

Emily's jaw fell to the floor. "He's here?" Her unit had been tracking the killer for months but hadn't gotten anywhere.

The journalist slowly shook her head, moving to the edge of her chair to get closer to the FBI agent. "They have the wrong guy, but we didn't know that when they caught the suspect. I came here with a dozen other reporters to try and get a story, but he was taken into the asylum too quickly and the doors were closed on us. So I came back at night at tried to find a way in."

"Wow," the new patient breathed. "Dedicated."

Seeing the smile on the sad woman's face, Lana chuckled. "I love my job," she nodded. "It didn't take too long to find a way in, but I got caught and was knocked unconscious." Shrugging, Lana bit her lip. "That's it."

Emily's brow furrowed as her shoulders straightened. "They knocked me out too."

"What did they tell you you were here for?"

Her eyes darkened as she felt her muscles grow tight. "Anger issues and homosexuality," she gruffed. "Both untrue. But apparently I'm here until I'm cured."

Lana gently nodded her head, hearing the frustration in the older woman's voice. "Do what they say," the reporter informed her. "They're very strict here. If you don't listen, I promise you it'll be the worst thing you've gone through."

Emily's hands rubbed together as she grew anxious. "What was the reason they gave you for being here?"

"Homosexuality."

Seeing the look of self pity that took over the younger woman's features, Emily knew not to question. She really was gay.

When the agent grew quiet, Lana leaned forward in her seat to grab Emily's attention once again. "It's not a choice, you know."

Emily looked up into the younger woman's eyes once more and watched as she tried to stop herself from breaking down on the spot. She knew that wholeheartedly, for her it seemed common sense, but apparently not everybody was on the same page. "I know," Emily whispered back, her voice softer than Lana's. "Never once did I think it wasn't."

Lana flashed a small smile before her lips fell back into a straight line.

Flicking her thumbs against one another to try and ease the tension she felt growing, Emily sighed. "So what do we do?"

"What?"

The agent gave a small shrug. "How do we get out?"

Lana almost laughed at the look on the new patient's face. "If it were that easy, I wouldn't be here right now."

"You have to know something," Emily pushed, her eyes hardening. "You've been here for months. You have to have searched this place."

The reporter's teeth ground against one another. "You think I haven't tried?"

Emily watched Lana's eyes darken on her and she quickly tried to take her foot from her mouth. "I'm sorry, I-"

"Do you really think someone with a sound mind would voluntarily stay here?"

Holding up her hands to almost shield her body, Emily shook her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered, looking around to make sure the doctors around the room didn't look over to them. "I'm just as upset as you. We both want to get out of here."

Lana cracked her neck before nodding. "I have a friend."

"To get us out?"

Smiling to a doctor who passed their sitting area, Lana paused before looking back to the woman opposite her. "No," she denied. "The one they thought was Bloody Face? He doesn't belong here either."

Emily hesitated, her hands on her thighs. "Is he dangerous?" They wouldn't suspect him for no reason.

"I promise he's not."

The FBI agent ran her hand over her mouth, her eyes lazily blinking to rid the dryness they'd achieved from her crying, and she let out a determined breath. "Might as well get us all out, right?" If they had a chance to get out, they'd take who needed an escape.

This place was hell.


	6. Chapter 6

Rolling around on her cot as she tried her best to be comfortable, Emily groaned, slamming her hands down on wheat the institution referred to as a bed. She'd be more comfortable on the concrete floor.

It had been two days and the agent had gotten no closer to finding a way out. There were people watching her every move and as far as Emily knew, Lana and Kit were under the same surveillance.

Lana refused to leave without Kit. He was the one who was mistaken for Bloody Face.

She stared up to the grey ceiling above her and huffed. She could feel her eyes stinging at the thought of her being locked away forever.

Rossi was supposed to protect her.

A siren blared and broke Emily out of her thoughts. Sitting up, the agent slipped on her slippers as the door flew open, and she saw the doctor in her doorway wave her out.

"Room check."

Emily stood with her back against the wall as the nuns walked down the hallway. Looking across the hall she saw Lana with her eyes on her, and she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

Sister Jude looked to each patient as she passed them and held her rosary in her hand. "Pepper," she nodded, waving off the officer who tried to go in and check her room. The pinhead could be trusted.

Glancing to the reporter she had put in the institution, Sister Jude almost smiled.

"What?" Lana questioned blandly, the tiredness visible in her eyes.

"You wouldn't be hiding anything, would you Lana?"

The reporter questioned the older woman with a furrow of her brow.

"She's clean," the officer stated as he came out of Lana's cell and continued down the hall.

Emily's fingers scratched at the wall she stand against as she watched an officer come from Shelley's cell - she was the sex addict of the asylum - and waved a thick cucumber in her face.

"What the fuck is this Shelley?"

The blond reached forward and stole the vegetable from the officer, her eyes on his as she licked it from end to the very top.

Grimacing, the officer shoved the patient forward and watched a pair of doctors haul her off down to get whipped. "Slut," he whispered disgustedly, shaking his head as he made it over to Emily. "Anything in here?"

Emily gently shook her head, almost too scared to speak.

Sister Jude kept her eyes on the agent as the officer strode into the cell. "Anything to hide, Emily?" She watched as the brunette's eyes fell on her, and she hid her smile, her fingers tapping along the wood of her rosary.

"No ma'am," she said shortly, not ready to defy the woman who now ran her life. Hearing the officer walking back out of the cell, Emily's head turned, her eyes meeting those of the man who clenched his jaw when he looked at her.

"Clean?"

Looking away from the new patient, the officer nodded to the nun before him. "Clean."

Emily let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and looked over to Lana, almost wanting to smile at the relief that washed over her. She knew she hadn't been hiding anything, but knowing the policies around the asylum she couldn't be too sure the officers or Sister Jude herself would sneak something under her pillow.

Sister Jude's eyes narrowed in on the FBI agent and smirked, watching as her face fell. "Proud of yourself?"

The brunette woman kept her features cool. "Proud because of what, sister?"

"Oh nothing," she smiled, her cool brown eyes sending a chill up Emily's spine. "It looks as if you feel relieved. Is it because you got away with something?"

Emily straightened her shoulders, taking a cue from the younger woman standing across from her. "What would I have to hide?"

Sister Jude's head tilted to the side before she took off down the hall, observing the rest of the cell checks before they locked the patients back in their rooms.

Once she heard the officers leave and the lights all shut off, Emily wrapped her hands around the bars of the window in her door and peeked out. "Lana," she whispered, her eyes shooting down either end of the hall to make sure no one else heard. "Lana!"

The reporter got herself up from her bed and looked out into the hall, her eyes connecting with the agent's. "We can easily get caught," she hissed back, scared that she'd be taken back to receive electro shock.

"I've been writing," she whispered back, ignoring the fear she saw in her new friend' eyes. "Taking notes of all the illegal things going on. I already have over a dozen things to tell the precinct."

 

Lana found herself confused. "How are you writing?"

 

Quickly lifting her hospital gown and digging into the whole in the seam of her underwear and showed her a handful of burned matches. "Carbon," Emily nodded, her voice quiet. "When someone lights a cigarette I take the match and use the left over carbon to write on the metal of my bed."

 

The younger woman almost smiled. That was genius.

 

"I'll talk to you about it tomorrow after my shift in the kitchen, ok?"

 

Lana raked her teeth over her bottom lip and nodded to the older woman. "Ok," she smiled, feeling hopeful for the first time in weeks.


	7. Chapter 7

Kneading the bread dough on the cutting block she had sprinkled with flour, Emily was constantly looking up from her work to examine what was going on around her. It had surprised her that Sister Jude had sent her down to work in the kitchen, knives and fire readily available to her, but maybe that was the reason after all. She was testing her. The nun had kept her eyes on her for the almost two weeks she'd been there for every moment she could, and Emily was close to losing it. If she could, she'd have shoved the old bitch out of the window by now.

"You're bruising your dough."

Emily's head shot up at the voice. Her eyes met those of the younger man and she gulped, her fingers sinking into the dough. "What?"

The brunette man gestured to the dough in front of the other patient as he put on an apron. "You're rolling it too hard." He took some of the flour from the bag at the end of the table and sprinkled it over the dough the older woman had been kneading. "The more you knead it, the less fluffy it'll get when it bakes."

Shortly nodding her head, the woman with her hands paused in her dough she licked her lips. "Doubt they care how our food is."

The other patient snorted. "Very true," he nodded, covering his own cutting board with flour.

Emily licked her lips as she watched the younger man start to knead his own glob of dough so it was ready to bake. "I'm Emily," she spoke up, her eyes on his as he looked back to her.

He frowned, looking as if he were trying his best to think or recollect something. "Lana's Emily?"

The agent's eyes widened at the mention of the younger woman. "Yeah," she said quietly, hearing the quiet chatter of the nuns on the other side of the kitchen. "You know Lana?"

"Yeah, she's told me about you." Wiping is hands along the front of the apron he wore, the younger man offered his hand to the new patient. "Kit."

Emily hid her surprise, shaking hands with him gently. "Lana's told me about you too."

Kit huffed. "So you know why I'm here?"

The brunette woman heard the nuns' voices grow nearer and she got back to kneading the dough before her. "I know why they think you're here."

"But you know it's not true."

Emily looked up from her activity and met the younger man's eyes. "I know what Lana told me," she said softly, watching as the other patient did his best to assess her and her motives in the few seconds he had. "I trust her."

Kit slowly nodded, smiling to the nuns as they passed by. "So why are you here?"

The agent angrily shook her head, not happy to relive just the thought of her boss throwing her into an institution. She'd find out why eventually, but she wasn't even sure if she wanted to. "They said I have anger issues," Emily grunted, looking down to the dough and fixing it into a load. "And I'm homosexual."

"Really?"

"No," Emily laughed, shaking her head. "But that's what they said. How are they supposed to cure what's not true?"

Kit felt bad for the older woman. She, Lana and him were all in the same boat: institutionalized for crimes or disorders they hadn't committed or didn't have, and there was no way out of it. "She told me," he spoke up, his voice quiet. "Lana."

The brunette looked back up.

"About your plan."

Emily's eyes widened as she watched one of the young nuns come up to them.

"Kit," she smiled, patting his hand before looking over to the newest patient. "And Emily, right? How are you today?"

The brown eyed woman slowly shook her head. "Fine," she smiled. "Better."

"Really? Well that's just great," the nun gushed. "Now what is this plan I hear you two talking about?"

Kit could see the other patient was close to having a nervous breakdown, the knowledge of her potentially staying there for life driving her mad, and he turned to get the nun's attention. "She used to bake at home," the mechanic stated. "She wanted to teach me how to lay the dough into the pan without having the dough overflow. You know how I burn it all the time."

The nun looked between the two patients and gave a small smile. "Of course." Backing away from the table, she nodded. "Thirty minutes and you're to go to the common room."

Emily blew out a breath. "Thank you," she breathed, doing her best to give him a sincere look because that was all she could do to thank him.

"Almost had a panic attack there."

The agent slowly nodded her head, watching him punch a few rounds into his dough. "Only in here have I had those," she said, void of all anger. She was just tired of living like this.

"Same," he nodded, never taking his eyes off his project in front of him. "I was fine before they put me in here." Looking up, Kit saw the sadness in Emily's eyes. "But I want in."

Emily slowly nodded her head. "If I can find a way."

"Lana's helping. She's doing her best."

"Do you think we can do it?"

Kit nodded. "As long as we're quiet, we can do it. Stay out of sight, don't do anything to get whipped or sent to electroshock and we're good."

The FBI agent plopped the dough into the nearest pan and carried it over to Kit, her hip brushing his as she bent over to put the dough in the oven. "We all are." Standing up, Emily stood beside the younger man. "You find something you tell me, and if I find something I tell you."

Kit shook the brunette's hand below the table, smiling to himself as she walked to the other side of the kitchen to get herself another blob of dough. They were getting out of there one way or another.


End file.
